


I'll Clean It Up Myself I Guess

by dizzy



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate, Will, Helen, and Henry. Set during Sanctuary 3x02, spoilers up to and including 3x02. Hints of Helen/Will and Kate/Henry, though it can just as easily be read as gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Clean It Up Myself I Guess

I: "Anything for the guy."

Henry doesn't make excuses. He doesn't make them for himself, and he doesn't make them for anyone else.

He doesn't make them for Will. He gets that Will has been through some shit, but so has everyone else, worse and without Magnus buzzing around making sure no one steps on toes, no one says the wrong thing.

Magnus doesn't treat anyone else quite like she treats Will, and she might even be fooling herself as to why, but Henry's not gonna call her on that. She's earned her right to some good old fashioned denial and Henry might not make excuses but he acknowledges other people's right to deal with things the way that helps them best sleep at night.

He knows what helps him sleep at night. What puts his mind at ease - doing a good job, making himself useful, making the pretty girl smile, a bit of praise from the woman upstairs, leveling up his night elf paladin. He's a man of fairly unsophisticated pleasures.

 

II: "You're surprised that I know where all your money is?"

Kate likes shopping. She likes money. She having nice things, too.

Spending money. Having nice things. The two have somehow never gone hand in hand with her. She's a horrible shopper, she's impatient and on edge in stores. Her teenage years were spent lifting things, not buying them. She's got a lingering sense of guilt and the way shop girls look at her makes her rankle.

She has no idea why Magnus insists on going shopping with her, though. And as she tells Henry later that night, the woman can shop. In true Magnus fashion, she insists on regaling Kate with tales of every fashion designer she's ever met, every fashionista she ever sipped tea with, every priceless gown that ever adorned her body, until the point Kate actually threatens to stuff a four hundred dollar scarf into her mouth.

Magnus just laughs.

And like all the other infuriating lessons that Magnus insists on teaching her, she realizes in the end that it's worth it. The time, the patience, sacrificing that thrill of having gotten away with something – replacing it with satisfaction of having actually earned it.

The last few years of her life have been so fucked up, and looking at a closet full of newly bought clothes gives her a sense of fulfillment that the five finger discounts never did.

Plus, she looks really hot in this new scarf.

 

III: "What's a little light death between friends?"

Will has never wanted to hit anyone as much as he wants to hit right now – someone, maybe Magnus, what she stands for, what she's done to him, what she's made his life into. He feels wrecked and exhausted and betrayed and he wants to cry like a kid when she tells him he's off the mission list, when she tells him to rest.

She walks toward him and she's got that pill bottle in her hand and that laptop against her arm and what strikes him is – she's shorter than he is. She's always so much bigger than her frame in his mind, the way she dominates every dusty corner of him now, the way she tugs the strings that control his life, controls him.

But right now she looks sad and frustrated and small and helpless and it's all because she knows he's hurting and that upsets her. It upsets him too, and he slogs through the anger but can't surface from it. He's like this because of her, and he's pissed at her and he's still not walking away from her.

He swallows the pill dry and almost chokes. His eyes water and he tells himself that it's just the choking, though the moisture spills over long after the pill has gone down.

 

IV: "Cheeky bastard."

Helen is tired of speeches. She's tired of having to make them, and having to listen to them. She's tired of meaningful statements and knowing the weight of her words. She's tired of the responsibility.

She listens to them name her as head of the global network and a sick feeling of resignation washes over her. She longs for a moment like the ones they had in the beginning of Will's time here – the lightness, before Ashley turned, before things got quite so heavy. This has always been her life, but it wasn't his and she never meant to take away that quick smile of his that she'd grown so fond of so fast.

Somewhere in the sanctuary, Will is hooked up to an IV trying to regain his sanity, and this is where she is. The good of the many outweighing the good of the one, and Declan has a really lovely smile and makes her laugh, and why does she feel like she shouldn't notice that? Because… because Will is hooked up to an IV trying to regain his sanity.

Declan isn't Will, and he comes into this knowing fully what will happen to him. She remembers a brief moment of wishful hoping that perhaps Declan would just take over, but then he stepped to the side and looked at her like everyone does, like she might have all the answers.

A few hours later she's tending to Will's wounds, fingers sifting through his hair. He seems better – less tense – and the conversation patterns itself like normal. His voice, slightly sarcastic, slightly amused, washes over her.

He turns toward her, watching her unsnap the rubber gloves and take them off. His hands rest on his thighs in a familiar gesture. "So I'm still off the mission list?"

"Will, I think right now you are part of the mission."

"… guess that's better than nothing." He actually laughs.

Helen leans over and kisses his cheek, lips lingering over the stubble there. He catches her arm as she pulls away. He looks so surprised, and she feels an unfamiliar flush of embarrassment at the spontaneous gesture. "What was that for?"

All she knows is that last week he was dead, and last night he looked like he was falling apart, and now he's staring at her with clear, bright eyes. "I'm just glad you're all right."

 

V.

Will has some machine hooked up to his brain, and all the rest of them can do is stand around and watch while he narrates his own death.

Magnus looks like she's not sure if she wants to hear what she has to say.

Kate hangs on to every word, and Henry's distracted still by thoughts of the device. He wants to know how it works, what technology went into it, what else that technology could be used for. He's predictable, concerned for Will but trusting that this isn't his area. This brain stuff… this is… hell, this is Will's area, Will and Magnus, because what isn't her area?

Will jolts upright on the sofa, body tense, and no one expects what comes out of his mouth. Magnus, on her knees, pleading and hopeful, confused soaking it in. The rest of them can only stand back and watch and try to puzzle out what this might mean for them.


End file.
